The Hunger Games: Baptism Of Fire
by yuyi-is-my-queen
Summary: Forget everything you read in Catching Fire & Mockingjay. In the Quarter Quell, tributes are taken from various fantasy worlds to compete in the arena and fight to the death. But what will become of Katniss & Peeta?
1. Chapter 1: Katniss

**Baptism Of Fire**

**Chapter One**

Shouting.

That's the first thing I hear on the morning of the Reaping for the 75th annual Hunger Games.

Shouting.

As daylight breaks through the gaps in the curtains of our house in the Victor's Village, I can see that the sounds of fear are coming from the mouth of my sleeping sister, Prim. Of course. She must be having a nightmare about the events of this very day, one year ago, when I volunteered to take her place after she was chosen in the Reaping to compete in the 74th Hunger Games. I can't imagine it was easy for her to take it all in and keep a brave face at such a young age. I shake her gently as she lies next to me; she must have come to my room in the middle of the night, afraid. As she wakes up I can see the fear in her eyes slowly fade as she realises she's still safe at home.

I need to get out of the house, to clear my head. This year will be a Quarter Quell, a special edition of the Hunger Games that only occurs once every 25 years. The Gamemakers always add a sick twist to the Quarter Quell the keep the Capitol viewers satisfied, but ultimately makes it greatly difficult for anyone living in the Districts to watch. With this in mind, it's a safe bet that President Snow will be using this as an excuse to punish me, or even all of District 12, for my actions with the berries at the end of last year's Games

This year, I will be a mentor whoever is picked to be in the Games this year. Peeta and I will have to try and coach at least two unfortunate young citizens of District 12 to kill or be killed in the arena. I need to escape to the woods to calm my nerves, but I know that President Snow will be looking for any way to punish me for making the Capitol look stupid, and if I'm caught it won't take much for him to have me executed. I can't put my family through that after everything, so I tend to stay clear of the woods these days.

As I walk through the district, I hear the bell in the square ring out that it is already 11 a.m., meaning that I have slept in greatly and that the Reaping will begin in only an hour – most probably my mother wanted me well-rested as I will have to take my place on the stage in front of the whole district with Haymitch and Peeta today. Already families are assembling in the square, at the front of the empty stage, wanting to make sure they are close enough to hear clearly who has been chosen. I turn and leave, deciding I should really be ready by now too.

By the time I've bathed and dressed in a Capitol-made blinding orange dress Cinna sent me in the week – still in the 'Girl On Fire' theme, it seems - my mother has braided my hair and helped with my make-up, it's time to head out to the square. I arrive a couple of minutes late, but no-one seems to really mind. Effie Trinket, wearing a lilac wig and matching lipstick along with an expression that screams disappointment at the fact she wasn't given a more interesting district than 12 for the second year in a row stands and makes her way to the centre of the stage, where the reaping balls – one filled with the name of every boy and the other of every girl aged 12-18 in the district and begins to talk.

'Greetings to the people of District 12, and welcome to the Reaping for the 75th Annual Hunger Games, the 3rd Quarter Quell…'

This is where I begin to zone out, because if there's one thing I've learned from my time with Effie it's that she knows how to drone on. I only begin to listen again, after what must have been about ten minutes, when three of Effie's words catch my attention.

'This year's twist,' she begins, and I can sense the tension in the crowd as District 12 braces themselves for the worst, that this year maybe the entire family of the tribute chosen must compete, or maybe there must be one tribute from every family. After a short pause, Effie resumes, 'is that there will only be tributes from District 12, with the other twenty-two tributes being chosen from anywhere on the planet at random.'

The crowd falls deafly silent at this revelation. _'There will only be tributes from District 12'_, in what way is that fair? I can almost hear President Snow ordering Effie to bring us the news, the joy in his tone. This is surely my fault, there's no two ways about it. But what I don't understand is that, apparently, this year's Games will be universal, involving 'twenty-two tributes from anywhere on the planet'. This, to my mind, defeats the purpose of the Hunger Games, the games that were put in place to remind residents of Panem, and only Panem, that they could be crushed by the Capitol at any time. Have the Capitol become so powerful that they can take over the entire planet? Surely not. Surely?


	2. Chapter 2: Ron

**Baptism Of Fire**

**Chapter Two - Ron**

The roar of the crowd is near deafening, but that's part of the amazing atmosphere as we prepare to cross over to Platform 9 ¾ to begin our fifth year at Hogwarts. Harry, Hermione and Ginny have all gone through the wall that separates the muggles from the magic platform that transports students to the school of witchcraft and wizardry, and I'm next.

'Good luck, Ronald!' says my mother with a teary smile.

_Well, here goes.._

As my baggage cart collides with the wall, I brace myself for the loud whistle and billowing steam of the Hogwarts Express but it never comes. I do pass through the wall, yes, there has been no intervention from certain house-elves this year, but I find myself not on Platform 9 ¾ but instead in what seems to be some deserted town.

This can't be happening! Why me, of all people? This isn't even the first time the platform's played up with me, what are the odds of it happening twice?

And then, from what must be the centre of the town, some kind of anthem begins to blast. I hide my baggage cart behind a house that seems so derelict to possibly be in use by any family, and follow the sound for what must be a good ten minutes before I see the first signs of actual life in this place. Everyone is gathered in the square, in the centre of town. People seem genuinely afraid of something, so I look in the direction they're facing, and my eyes lock on a stage. More specifically, the luminously-dress woman _on_ the stage. She's got purple hair and purple lips and she's wearing a bright green dress.. I'm getting a headache just looking at her. Her image is definitely scary, but somehow I doubt that's what has evoked the look of terror I can see so clearly on every face in the crowd.

I've only just realised it, but everyone is almost completely silent, as if someone has just said something none of them are brave enough to disagree too. At any rate, I need to get home so I make my way to the stage and, therefore, the crazy-looking lady. As I brush past people a quiet whisper starts to gather behind me, as though they're talking about me when my back is turned. As I make my way up the steps to the stage, I see a pretty girl, a blonde boy, and a large man who appears intoxicated are seated behind the woman who looks as though she's been dipped in some nuclear substance. I would never have noticed them with her hair stealing the spotlight.

There are gasps as I walk across the stage to the woman, and I see now that there is a team of officials trying to prevent me from assassinating someone or something like that, only the square is so packed that I was able to reach the stage before they got me. I'm thankful, and make my way to the woman, and ask her if I can use her microphone. She looks beyond puzzled, scared even, which seems ridiculous unless she doesn't own a mirror, but gives me the microphone anyway.

Now, I'm faced with quite a sizable problem. I have no idea what I'm to say, without revealing the wizarding world to all these, what I assume to be muggles. So I decide to keep it vague.

'Um… I… H-hello, everyone… I was brought here by accident… I need to know where I am? I… I was brought here… at random,' as I say the last word, a gasp passes through the crowd. Strange.

I'm beginning to worry, when there's a boom through a tannoy system and a man's voice announces 'Ladies and Gentlemen of District 12, I give you the first tributes of the Seventy Fifth Annual Hunger Games: Ronald Weasley and Babydoll!'

I don't understand what this means at all, and there's a lot of puzzled looks in the audience too. My guess is that this 'Babydoll' is the girl I passed on my way to the stage, but suddenly members of the audience begin turning away from the stage and clearing a path to the far corner of the square, where a blonde girl with pigtails stands, armed with a sword. She looks ready to kill whoever gets in her way so everyone begins to move as she passes towards the stage and stands next to me, her eyes narrowed to slits in confusion.

And then I realise. We are to be 'tributes' in some kind of sick ritual.


	3. Chapter 3: Babydoll

**Baptism Of Fire**

**Chapter Three – Babydoll**

As the music begins to play and I begin to dance, I can feel myself being transported to another world. The scene around me changes as the dance studio melts away to reveal some kind of meadow, heavily covered by trees and other foliage. Peaceful.

Yet somehow, there's still something not right. I'm always taken to places where I'm challenged, worlds where I have something to prove, yet there doesn't seem to be any challenge here. I come to the conclusion that finding the challenge must be part of the challenge, so I begin to make my way through the trees to find the reason for being brought here, until I come to a fence. An electric fence, by the sound of the humming it emits. It towers well beyond jumping height, clearing the tops of the trees, at least 10 metres high. If this is my challenge, it's not one of the most threatening I've face, but I'm fairly sure it's a danger nonetheless.

I walk along beside the fence that seems to split the woods in half, as there are about as many trees on the other side as there are here, for what must be a good forty-five minutes before the thick forestation on the opposite side of the barrier morphs into a derelict town of some sort. I can hear the loud boom of what sounds like some kinda of celebration. The first real, live person I see is a boy with flame-red hair who looks just as lost as I imagine I do.

And then I find my way out. There's a hole in the fence, where it's been prized out of the ground to fashion an opening of sorts, and I don't hesitate to drop to my knees and manically scramble through the passage. My foot scrapes the wire of the fence on my way out but nothing happens so I assume either the fence is switched off here or it's just a regular fence.

On the other side of the fence, I make my way towards the noise I heard earlier. I have my sword over my back and my pistol holstered in my stocking so I feel safe. I'm ready to take on anyone or anything that challenges me.

But nothing can prepare me for this.

As I reach the centre of the town, the roar of the so far unseen crowd is so deafening that it's rattling my eardrums. I pass a parade of shops – a bakery, a butcher's – and turn my last corner towards the square in the centre of the town.

A woman with crazy hair in a shade of purple I don't think I've ever seen before is standing on a stage with a girl who looks slightly younger than me, a blonde boy around the same age as the girl, a repulsive man who appears intoxicated and the redhead boy I spotted earlier. Their eyes, along with those belonging to everyone in the audience, lock onto me as I draw my sword.

And then a tannoy system speaks the words that give me the shock of my life:

'Ladies and gentlemen of District Twelve, I give you the first tributes of the Seventy-Fifth Annual Hunger Games: Ronald Weasley and Babydoll!'

I'm being volunteered for something called the 'Hunger Games', and somehow someone knows who I am. The crowds part to allow me access to the stage where the redhead – I'm guessing he's this 'Ronald' stands, but I've got my sword drawn and my pistol poised defensively, ready to slaughter anyone who decides to strike out at me.

I take my place on the stage next to Ronald, but he seems hardened, an angrier version of the boy I saw earlier, so I compose myself in a similar way. I holster my gun but remain holding my sword as I stare out into the crowd, my eyes narrowed in what I hope is a look of fury.

And then comes the ear-splitting screams the girl with pink hair falls out of the sky.


	4. Chapter 4: Ramona

**Baptism Of Fire**

**Chapter Four – Ramona**

To say the very least, it's been a long day.

Scott has destroyed the Katayanagi Twins and Gideon, the last of my Seven Evil Exes, so we're free now. We can be together.

We leave Knives and start making our way home. Scott's whining about having to walk home after all that fighting, so I pay for him to catch the bus home – I suppose it's the least I owe him – and keep walking on my own. Some alone-time is exactly what I need right now.

I didn't know what to expect when I came to it, the Door. I don't even know why I opened it. After this day I've had, it would've made sense to just ignore it, for the sake of my own slowly-fading consciousness.

But I went through it. A random door in the middle of the street and I went through it. And stepped out into thin air.

And here I am now, regretting that decision more than anything in my entire life as I hurtle out of the sky, bracing myself for the smack that will come when I inevitably make impact with the ground.

As I break through the clouds, I can see a town closing in on me, and as I get even closer I see that I'm falling directly towards a large group of people, the majority of the town's population by the looks of it.

I'm getting closer, about five seconds until impact I guess. While I'm terrified out of my wits, I'm so glad I've managed to keep from screaming. Any shred of dignity I've managed to cling to, I'll take.

I'm literally a foot from the ground when it stops me, the cushion of air. I let out a sigh of relief but it turns to a shriek as I'm suddenly dropped.

I don't know how this is logical or even possible, but I've just fallen miles out of the sky and lived to tell the tale, so I don't question it.

I slowly get to my feet, remembering the crowd and realising their eyes are all glued to me, the sprawled mess on the ground, and I'm guided by some men who look official – possibly police – to a stage in front of the crowd.

Why didn't I just take the bus with Scott?


	5. Chapter 5: Sam

**Baptism Of Fire**

**Chapter Five - Sam**

The first thought to hit me as I wake up is that I've no idea where I am. I mean, I was at Brittany's party last night so of course I was drinking, but I've never woken up alone in a house I don't even recognise.

I decide I'd rather get gone than stick around where I'm most likely not welcome, but before I leave I check myself out in the en-suite mirror. Hmmm. Sam Evans, you're a mess. My eyes are bloodshot and puffy and I absolutely stink of booze. Still, at least my hair looks fine. DAMN fine.

For what looks like just a small house, the carpet, drapes and furnishings look incredibly posh. Too posh to imagine anyone I know lives here. I go to look out on the street from the window; see if I recognise the neighbourhood.

I don't, for a few reasons: firstly, I appear to be on one of the top floors of a hotel – or at least I'm guessing it's a hotel, as that would also explain the expensive furnishings. Secondly, a massive crowd is gathered out the front of the hotel to watch what might be the worst-looking pop group ever, on a stage directly below my line of vision. There's a woman with a hideous purple wig, a girl with pink hair, a ginger boy and a blonde girl who, to be fair, doesn't look too shoddy. Except, they don't seem to be singing and everyone in the crowd looks beyond miserable, so I'm guessing that, maybe they're not a pop group.

Anyway, I wanna get out of here before someone comes and expects me to pick up the bill. I take the elevator down eight floors and swiftly make my way through the lobby, where I'm stopped by some sinister-looking official.

"Your wrists," he says, "show me your wrists."

I'm bewildered, but nevertheless begin pulling up the sleeves of my sweater.

I feel my eyes widen in shock as I read the fresh tattoo, the skin under it still raised, on my left wrist:

"TRIBUTE"

I'm lost for words – why would I want such a pointless tattoo? And moreover, what was it to this man? He grabs my wrist and it's all I can do to keep myself from crying out in pain as he drags me to the back of the stage and pushes me up the steps. I glance round and catch the name of my hotel: "Justice Building". Odd.

The crowd emits a confused roar so loud I can barely think as I walk across the stage and I'm guided to stand on the left of the girl with the pink hair. It's the four of us – Ginger, Blondie, Pink Hair and me, stood staring out at the crowd, the purple haired woman behind us along with some other people I didn't get a good look at sat on chairs behind her. There's a crackle from the speakers and a man's voice announces:

"Ladies and gentlemen of District 12, we give you your third and fourth tributes of the Seventy-fifth Annual Hunger Games: Ramona Flowers and Samuel Evans!"

The crowd roars before the voice continues:

"And now, it's time to select our first tribute from the people of District 12!"

That's when I pass out from the unhealthy cocktail of booze, shock and fear.


End file.
